Turncoat
by AlexandreaBlack
Summary: Alex, a girl tortured to the brink of death suddenly lands up in the Divergent Book. Faced with the pressing matters of what she knows are about to happen along with her own dark past, will she make it out alive? Eric and Four can't seem to figure her out. What is it with this strange girl, bearing strange scars, that could infuriate and intrigue them both to the point of madness.
1. Chapter 1 - Down the Rabbit Hole

_Alex, a girl tortured to the brink of death suddenly lands up in the Divergent Book. Faced with the pressing matters of what she knows are about to happen along with her own dark past, will she make it out alive? Eric and Four can't seem to figure her out. What is it with this strange girl, bearing strange scars, that could infuriate and intrigue them both to the point of madness._

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Divergent trilogy.**

~AEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEA~

I've always wanted my death to be quick. Painless. Oblivious.

I was supposed to exist the one moment and then just disappear in the next. I was supposed to be engulfed by a white light. I was supposed to be just _dead_.

Not like this. Not like this never ending limbo between consciousness and death. Stuck between pain and numbness. Trapped between fear and just not giving a shit anymore. I must have drifted into consciousness again since I could feel the numbness slowly disappearing.

My head lolled to the one side, top-heavy and exhausted. My eyes were shut. I thought I've opened them? My wrists chafe against a crude rope. A coppery taste lingers in my mouth. I swallow and the metal tang stuck in my throat making me want to vomit. Why am I tasting blood? Why is my body burning? I try opening my eyes again, but my lids are too heavy. I sigh and the sound almost comes out as a sob. Am I crying? Maybe, my cheeks are wet.

My heart thumps. The strokes are uneven. It sounds weary. I'm weary. The numbness is gone now and my skin feels raw. Every inch of it. The rope digs into my wrists. Its eating my wrists. My shoulder is hot. My body is burning.

"Get up"

Someone is talking. He sounds annoyed. Is he annoyed at me? Why is he annoyed at me? Why am I crying? Why is my body burning? Why am I tasting blood? I try opening my eyes again. I cringe at the sharp blueish-tinted light. The light makes my head hurt. No, it makes my head hurt _worse_. Besides my wet cheeks I can feel the stickiness of sweat and perhaps blood matting my face. My head hurts. I want to close my eyes again, but a shadow appears in front of me. A dark silhouette of a man. The shadow is fuzzy. Everything is fuzzy. Except the light. The light is too bright. I wince again.

"I said get up"

The fuzzy-shadow kicks me in the shoulder and I erupt in flames. My body is searing. It is throbbing, stinging, blazing like a thousand hot knives slowly slicing every inch of my flesh. But my shoulder is pure agony. It is hot and cold, numb and harsh, biting, raw and it feels like it has its own heartbeat. A heartbeat of a heart that is about to fall out. The room tilts and my already shitty vision blurs even more. Bile rise up in my throat, but it does not enter my mouth. It just sits there, burning my throat. Why is he doing this?

"Stop"

Was that me? My voice is hardly audible. Its scratchy. My tongue stick.

The dark silhouette-man laugh. He sounds like a maniac.

"You want me to stop? Then tell me where he is!" his voice is harsh, like grating metal. It makes my ears hurt. It makes my heart jump. "If you tell me, I'll give you a quick death"

Death. Death will be blessing. It would be a cure against the pain. Against the fear. I want that quick death he offers. I _need_ that quick death he offers me. I'm too weak to last. But why am I not accepting it? Why don't I tell him where the man he's looking for is? My heart squeeze, because I know why. I will not betray my father.

I remember now. Why I'm crying, tasting blood and burning. Why this man bound me, kicked me, hit me, stabbed me, even shot me. I'm protecting my father from this mad man. This lunatic. This monster. That's why.

My eyes involuntarily flick towards to bookcase-door. I wonder if he can hear? Hear the mad man? Hear me? Hear my screams? Wil he come out and save me?

"No" I answer myself out loud. Father was never able to hear anything when he was behind that safe door in his lab. His stupid secret lab that I was not allowed to enter. Ever. Dad did not even know I am visiting him today. He is not expecting me. He is not looking for me. He does not know. He is not going to save me. My heart sinks.

"No?" the man echoes my response, thinking that I've answered him. He sighs, almost like he is also weary of this torturing.

"Fine. I will just find him myself. He is bound to show up sooner or later" he snaps and grabs my arm, yanking me halfway to my feet. I stumble. He does not care. He drags me outside to the balcony.

The wind is warm. It is summer. I never liked summer. The heat does not help my already burning body. My eyes are stinging. I try to focus. I can see the slide-door from my father's apartment. My father's apartment is on the 12th floor. The last floor.

I suddenly feel the cold metal of the railings press against my back. Digging into my beaten body. The man – slightly in focus – grabs me by my throat. His watery blue eyes challenging me to give in. His black hair whips in the warm air. His face is cruel. A pink scar marks his cheek. He eyes never leaves mine. He's thinking, but he is out of ideas. I can see it. There is nothing more he can do. I will not talk. I'm stubborn. Weak, but stubborn. The corner of my mouth twitches up in a half smile. Mocking. It's over. My pain will soon end. His eyes harden. He lifts me up, holds me for a little while and then he push.

I'm falling.

Falling

Falling

Falling

Weightlessness surrounds my body. It clings to it. It soothes me. I'm free. The warm wind is cooling down.

I'm going down…down…down.

The air is turning even colder. My _skin_ is turning colder. I like it.

I'm still falling. Straight down. I'm not spinning or twisting around in the air. I'm like a rock. A rock with arms and legs, slightly dangling above me. I see blood on them.

The coldness is numbing. It's taking away my pain. The blood is making streaks down my pale skin. Long red ribbons, but I don't feel anything. The gunshot wound to my shoulder is dead. It's not throbbing anymore. My shoulder is dead. Its own little heart must have stopped or fallen out. Is this death? Will my heart stop before I crash to the ground?

I open my eyes. Its white all around me. I smile. It's over. The pain is gone. I will be gone.

But I'm still falling.

Falling

Falling

Slowly the weightlessness is starting to seep away. It no longer clings to my limbs. It is replaced by something else. A feeling? Pain?

No, thankfully not pain. No, the feeling is…. gravity? A lump form in my stomach. That same lump, mixed with fear, excitement and adrenaline when one bungee-jumps. My weightlessness is gone now. Along with my pain.

I look at my arms. The red ribbons are also gone. I frown. I've been falling for quite some time now.

I look above me. The whiteness is turning into a blue sky. A beautiful, cloudless sky. Oh no. Death is not near. I'm probably gaining consciousness again. I'm probably going to feel the impact of the concrete below me. I'm going to feel pain again.

Suddenly walls appear next to me and the blue sky is quickly turning into a small circle above me. A small blue circle surrounded by a black roof. My body drops and lands into something soft and comforting. It sinks down with my bodyweight and bounces back up a little bit. Slowly swinging up-and-down. Up-and-down.

What the….? This was not what I was expecting.

I turn my head to the side and see that I'm hanging in a giant net; strung across a wide area and fastened with ropes against long metal poles.

What the….?

A flicker of something dark catches my eye and I look back up to the circle of blue sky above me. A dark from is falling towards me.

Shit.

Is that the Mad Man following me? Fear grips me and I try scrambling away. But it is difficult to move on the net. I manage to get on my hands and knees. Someone yells.

"Get out of the way, Initiate!"

I look to the side again and see a guy standing slightly below the net. Initiate?

I try to move again, but the falling body has made his full decent and lands slightly on top of me. His boots kicking my back. I panic. I will not let this man torture me again. I take full advantage of my still pain-free state and wiggle from underneath the body. As I scramble out I kick him. _Hard_.

"What the fuck!" the man with me on the net exclaims. It does not sound like the scraping metal voice of the Mad Man, but I don't turn around to see if I'm right or wrong. I move quickly on all fours over the net to the guy still standing beside it. His face looks a little startled.

He narrows his eyes and then holds out a hand to me. I grab it and he pulls me off the net and balance me on my feet. I quickly turn my head back to face the man on the net and feel my heart jump with relief as I take in his appearance. It is indeed _not_ the Mad Man following me.

No, this man has short light hair, clean and precisely styled. Like the lunatic, he is also wearing black, but the clothes look vastly different. A neat militaristic style jacket with silver zippers, paired off with the same shade black pants and boots. Something glints just above his right eye. A piercing. My eyes catch his and I flinch when I see the steel in them. The man, not much older than me by the looks of him, flex his jaw and raise a hand to it. I must have kicked him in the face. His silver eyes are drilling into mine. I look away.

"Name?"

I turn to the guy that helped me from the net. "What?" I ask stupidly. Everything is just happening too fast. I was…I was being tortured just a few minutes ago. I lift my arms and look for the slashes made by the knife, but there are no wounds. Only faint light marks. Healed scars. I look down towards my shoulder. My white shirt is clean and fresh. No hole, no blood, no gunshot wound. I move the fabric away to expose my skin and see an ugly, roundish scar sitting where my wound is supposed to be.

What the fuck?

"What is your name" the guy clarifies. His voice is deep, and it rumbles. I face him again and see he is looking at my exposed shoulder. At my wound. I see curiosity reflect in his eyes.

"Alex" I answer and he meets my gaze. He gives a brief smile, but it does not reach his dark blue eyes.

"Last jumper – Alex!" he exclaims loudly to someone behind me. I turn and notice a group of people materialize from between the dark shadows. A few of them cheer while others laugh. Some just stood there looking bored.

"Welcome to Dauntless, Alex" the guy says and push me towards a group of people standing awkwardly to the one side.

~AEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEA~

Thanks for reading!

English is not my first language and I would love to have a Beta volunteer for this story!

 **If you like this, please please review!**

 **xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2 - Welcome to Dauntless

**IMPORTANT: Please read.**

I'm following the sequence of the book, but the characters look like the ones in the movies.

Alex did not read book 1 & 2\. Only book 1 (Divergent).

In this story they go to the choosing ceremony at age 18. Making Four and Eric 20.

Still looking for a Beta…

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing Divergent related.**

~AEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEA~

"Welcome to Dauntless, Alex"

I looked at him blankly. Dauntless…Dauntless…. Dauntless….

Is he joking? He shoves me to a group of people standing awkwardly to the one side. They are mix of different shades of blue, white, dark red and black. No green, no yellow, orange, purple, pink...

I look to the rest of the people gathered in the hall. All wearing black. Dauntless.

My gaze falls upon the only girl wearing grey. Her blue eyes meet mine. Tris. Her name flickers in my mind. Her name is Tris.

Dauntless. Tris.

My nose itch, but I don't scratch it. Goosebumps crawls over my skin, but I'm not cold.

The guy that helped me down the net walks to the front of our little group and motions for us to follow. That guy is Four.

Dauntless. Tris. Four.

What. The. Fuck.

I've gone mad. Completely mad. Not Mad-Man mad, just… _crazy_.

I know this is not a dream. No, I am _certain_ this is not a dream. It is too real. The smell, the people, the detail. You never get this much detail in a dream.

I place my hand against the smooth rock wall that leads all the way into the heart of the earth. I listen to the footsteps of the group in front om me. I feel the cold air washing over my arms. Too real.

Someone sneezes. Someone sighs. Small cracks in the wall. Shadows from the dims lights against the wall. Too much detail.

The creases of the person's top in front of me. Dripping sound of water somewhere in the background. Someone bumps my shoulder. Too much fucking detail.

I can feel it. My _heart_ can feel it, even if my brain say it is irrational. Impossible.

The group stop. We are standing in a circle of light.

"This is where we divide" a woman says. I should know her name, but I can't remember now. "The Dauntless-born initiates are with me. I assume you don't need a tour of the place."

She disappears with everyone wearing black, leaving ten of us behind. We should be 9. No, _they_ should be 9. I'm not supposed to be part of this.

Four starts speaking, but I don't listen. I'm too freaked out on how I got here.

I'm in Dauntless. Stuck in some weird post-apocalyptic world that is divided into messed-up factions. Am I in the future or a fictional world? I look around me. Four is in someone's face – Christina's face – he looks pissed. This can't be fictional. But if I was in the future…how would I know about this? How would I know about Dauntless, Factions, Four, Tris, Divergents…?

Divergents.

A sickly feeling crept up my spine. Divergents. I glance to Tris and then to Four. According to the book they are both Divergents. I've never read the second or third book, but for now I'm more panicked about the events of the book I _have_ read.

I'm not divergent.

I'm going to become a mindless drone. I'm going to kill innocent people. I'm going to become like the Mad Man.

The group moves again as Four opens two heavy doors. I follow them and enter the place they call the "Pit".

My mind faintly registers that the place is huge. A big cavern that stretch deep, far and wide. It is packed with people moving on the many paths that leads between stalls, stores and other parts of the compound. My mind is assaulted by the buzzing and droning of all the people talking, shouting… moving. This is all too much. I cannot be here. I should not be here! I'm not Divergent! I'm going to kill!

Dark spots swim before my eyes. I swallow hard. My tongue sticks again.

"Are you ok?" someone next to me ask. I turn to face Tris. Of course it would be her, she is responding to the Abignation in her. A harsh laugh escapes my lips at the absurdity of it all. She keeps looking at me, not started by my laugh, as she waits for my answer. The spots in my vision vanish.

"Yeah" I say and rake my hand through my messy hair. "Just a lot to take in".

It was the truth. Some of it anyways.

She gives me a small smile and nods. I guess she must feel the same way. We start moving again and it feels better to walk than to just stand and watch. The corridor we pass through is narrow and dark, but the one side ends at an iron railing, not a wall. As we continue along the path I can hear the roar of fast moving water approaching. We are near the Chasm.

The Chasm. This is where that one guy dies. What was his name again?

The floor suddenly drops off at a sharp angle. I look down and see a river, fast flowing, far below us. The water is white, foaming, crashing against rock. It looks wild. I can feel the spray of the water on my face and naked arms. I'm starting to get cold. I look to the others and see that most of them either wears long sleeved shirts or jackets. I fold my arms over my chest and look down at the raging water again, shivering.

"The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!" Four shouts over the roar. I look up and search the crowd before me until I find who I am looking for. As soon as my eyes reach him, I remember his name. Al. His name is Al.

And this is where Al dies.

Al suddenly looks up and meet my gaze, like he could feel my eyes burning into him. I feel sick again. I look away.

As we make your way over the bridge I keep my face down. Four leads us to another chamber, I can smell food. My stomach turns and I swallow hard.

The dining room was large and packed full of Dauntless. They cheer, they stamp their mugs against the table, they make a hell-of-a-lot of noise. The sound is almost inspiring. I see Tris and Christina grin.

"Come" Tris say to Christina and me and move to find an empty table.

I follow, but suddenly a strong hand wraps around the upper part of my arm and forcefully jerks me back. I stumble as I'm spun around.

I could feel the shock shaking through my body and recoil at the hard grip on my arm. Mad Man – Mad Man – Mad Man, my head chants.

However, I my eyes do not land onto watery blue ones, but rather that of silver steel.

The guy that was on the net with me.

The Villain.

Eric.

Fuck, I kicked the Villain in the face. My heart plummets. Today is just not my day.

Eric's piercing flashes dangerously in the blue light. Almost as dangerously as his eyes.

The black columns on his neck stand out in stark contrast to his pale skin. It makes him look ruthless.

He _is_ ruthless.

He studies my face for a moment, then his eyes move down my body. Not in a leering, seductive or repulsive way. Just like he needs to confirm something. The bulge in the side of his jaw tells me he is biting down hard on his teeth. His lips form a thin white line. He is breathing hard.

Eric looks incredibly pissed.

A small red line runs across the side of his jaw and I winch, recognizing the pattern of my boot heel.

He meets my gaze again. "You were not the last jumper" his voice was not what I expected. It was terribly controlled. Too controlled.

"What?" I ask, confused and stalling for time. I'm not sure what to do. I'm still trying to figure out how I got here, why I'm here, what I'm going to do. I cannot deal with this angry villain in front of me now as well.

"Don't fucking toy with me, Initiate." His voice is low. I can feel his breath on my face. Feel his iron grip crushing my arm. Feel the message radiating from his body: Do not mess me. I _will_ make your life miserable.

But strangely enough, I do not feel the gripping fear I'm supposed to feel along with that message. I've had worse, my mind rings. I've had worse just _minutes_ ago.

However, I do not have a death wish or suicidal habits. Eric is dangerous. It is his second nature to kill, so I choose my words carefully.

"Was I not the last to jump?" I ask, placing a mask of confusion on my face "The other leader announced that I was the last jumper? Did someone jump after me…well someone else besides you?"

His nostrils flare and before he could say something I quickly add "I truly am sorry for kicking you in the face, I was just trying to get down from the net" my voice sounds sickly sweet. I don't think that is very Dauntless-like.

My heart thuds loudly. I'm not good at laying. Never was. My mind is still scrambled. I've not had the time to process everything.

"Where did you transfer from?" he asks, his grip not loosening even by a millimeter.

Shit.

Mind blank.

The bulge in Eric's jaw never loosens. The steel in his eyes glint.

"I…um…I transferred from…a…Amity?" my answer came out like a question, but I think it to be the safest. If I remember correctly, no one transferred from Amity. No one here that could confront me.

I hope.

Eric continued to scowl at me. I can feel the power vibrating out of him. I wet my lips, my mouth is dry.

I need a drink.

"Eric" someone call. Relief wash through me.

I look over Eric's shoulder to see Four standing behind him. His face looks placid, like he has seen this behavior quite often.

"What?" Eric snaps. He releases my arm and I fight the impulse to rub it.

"Max needs you" Four say and turn to leave. Eric gives me a once over before he turns and follow behind Four.

I let out a heavy sigh and took a deep breath, calming myself. I need to get my shit together. Before I face another inquisition like I just did.

I join Tris and Christina at their table and they give me worried looks.

"Think the boss is mad, because I kicked him in the face" I say with a small smile. I might as well start making friends with the right people. Who knows how long I'm going to be stuck here. The two girls nervously laughed at my comment.

"Hi, I'm Christina and this is Tris" she introduces and I smile. Not because I already know, but because it is a good sign that I just might get to make friends with them.

"Hi, I'm Alex" I say in return.

"We know – last jumper" Christina say and place a tomato on her hamburger. I look down at all the different bowls of hamburger toppings and notice a used plate where I'm sitting.

"Four sat there" Tris explains when she sees me looking at the plate "He practically swallowed his food whole, before he came to rescue you."

I frown at that. A nagging feeling pressing against my chest. Wasn't Four supposed to remain seated here with Eric showing up to sit next to him? I look up and don't see Four or Eric. Is my presence going to change the sequence? It sort of already did.

Is that a good thing? Or a bad thing?

The feeling made me scared and hopeful at the same time.

~AEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEEAEA~

Everything after dinner followed as it did in the book. The only difference was that Four showed us to our dormitory and gave us the lay down instead of Eric. I was relieved at that. I'm not ready for him yet.

The room is dark. The bed is surprisingly soft and comfortable, but I cannot sleep. The reality of this fictional world is slowly sinking in. Now that I have the time to think, my mind seems unable to do so.

Watery blue eyes drift into my head and I shudder. I feel the slice of a knife on my skin, I hear the gun shot. I shudder again. I do not want to see or think about the Mad Man. I run my hand across my arm and feel the uneven skin where all the legions were made. My hand travels up to my shoulder and I stroke my thumb across the round bullet-wound scar.

How is it possible to heal this quickly? The scars look years older. Do I perhaps have memory loss? Maybe I forgot everything that happened between the torturing and the jumping into Dauntless.

No, I shake my head. I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror earlier tonight. I look the same. Same 18-year-old face. My head hurts trying to process it all.

I think about my dad, was he ok? Did the Mad Man find him? Does dad even know that I'm gone? Why was the Mad Man looking for him? What was my father always doing behind that safe-door in his lab? Why am I here? How long am I going to be here? What am I going to do?

I replay the events of the book in my mind that still needs to unfold. The training, Al's death, the fear simulation, the injections, the killing of Abignation, Jeanine looking for something. I wish I've read the second and third book. I sigh.

Focus.

I need to focus.

I don't want to be factionless. I can't transfer to another faction, so I _have_ to become a Dauntless member.

Ok, I can do that. I'm fit enough – I love running – so I think that will count as an advantage. Physical combat? Never done it before, but I was no match for the Mad Man, so maybe that would be a bit of a challenge. However, if Tris can do it, I can do it.

Maybe training to defend myself is a good thing. I never want to feel so vulnerable in my life again. I never want to be in such a helpless state that I was in with the Mad Man. I wipe my cheek and notice that it is wet. I did not realize I am crying. I take a deep, shaky breath.

Yes, training to defend myself will be a good thing. Physical combat, knife throwing and handling a gun. I shudder at the last thought.

But the training part is not the difficult section. What about the fear simulation?

I hug the pillow to my face and groan. Fuck. Ok, so what am I afraid of?

The Mad Man. I feel sick knowing I'm going to see him again. Feel it again. Be there again.

I quickly moved on to my next fear, trying not to linger too much on the watery blue eyes floating in my mind.

My dad. I'm afraid he will get hurt. It's just a fear simulation I remind myself, so it will be alright, he is not actually going to be there. What next? Sharks. I'm terrified of sharks. The black beady eyes and razor sharp teeth. I've watch too many Shark Attach episodes on National Geographic's.

Mmmm…does Four even know what a shark is? I'm not sure how secluded they are here. I know about the wall of course, but do they have books, movies or internet to access stuff outside? Anyway, what else? Cockroaches. Hate them, but don't think it will be too much of a problem.

Not being Divergent and killing innocent people. That's a huge fear.

I frown into my pillow. That's going to be a problem. Four will freak out when he sees that. I can just imagine the scene. All the people he knows, walking like zombies, killing his former faction…

I groan again. Maybe it is a _good_ thing if Four sees it. He is the good guy after all. Maybe he can help in devising a plan to save everyone.

But what if Eric or Max witness the event in my mind? What if, even if Four erases the memory, Eric takes his place one day controlling the simulation? My stomach lurch and I feel sick. That cannot happen. I'm not going to have innocent blood on my hands.

I need to avoid the fear simulation, but how?

By not becoming Dauntless.

I need a new plan. My mind is twisting and turning to come up with a new idea.

Maybe I can still do my training - get fitter, stronger and learn how to defend myself. Then one day, I can steel a gun, maybe some daggers and run away. I'll be factionless, but that will be ok.

I can try and find the Prior Family and inform them about what I know. I can tell them I've overheard the Dauntless speaking about it and that was why I ran away. They will help. Tris's mother _will_ help.

After that I can leave the place and explore what's behind the wall.

What _is_ behind the wall?

Maybe it's Zombies.

Ugh, add that to my fear list.

Scrap that idea for the moment. Let me first try and find out what is behind the wall, before I venture out there.

Great, that could work. In the meantime while I'm here, I can save Al.

I feel calmer now, now that I have some form of a plan laid out. I also feel calmer, because the Mad Man can't reach me in this world.

I remove the pillow from my face and let out a long breath that I was holding. I can hear the different stages each person in the room with me is in. Deep sleep, restless sleep, not asleep.

I know Al and Tris is also awake. I know that both of them are crying. Tris is just doing a better job at hiding it than Al. I wonder why such a big, strong, slightly handsome boy, can be so utterly afraid. If he is soft in nature, as he clearly shows, why did he choose Dauntless? He would have done much better in Amity, hurling grain sacks and eating happy-clappy bread.

Another sob escapes the boy and I wonder if I should comfort him. Maybe he just needs someone to tell him that everything is going to be all right. Maybe this is the first step into saving Al. I gave a soft chuckle. Operation: Saving Al. It sounds like a title of a low budget movie.

I remove the covers and swing my legs down. The stone floor is cold and I shiver.

I make my way down the aisle, noiseless, towards Al's bed. I halt in front of it, not sure of how I am to proceed. This is kind of awkward.

"Al?" I whisper.

The bed creaks and the sobbing stops "Who's there?" His voice is think with crying. He sounds awful.

"Alex" I shift my weight, uncomfortable and uncertain "are you ok?"

He sniffs, but does not answer. Hesitantly I lower myself on his bead. "Mind if I sit down?" I ask "The floor is quite cold"

"No" he whispers and I feel him scoot over. I sit down completely and place my feet on the bed as well. I notice that Al's back is turned to me.

This feels so weird. I'm not very good with comforting. I just know that every person, no matter how tough they are, needs comforting some or other time in their life. I reach out a hand and start stroking Al's back. Ugh this feels so weird. He must think me a freak.

"It's going to be ok" I whisper and my voice sounds weak.

"You will be good at his." I try and say more confidently. I'm not sure if he is hearing this or not, but I feel I have to do this. I cannot sit by and just let him die.

I'm not sure if messing up the story line will end up in a disaster, but at this stage I don't give a flying fuck about that. These people here, now, are real to me.

"You are strong and brave" I continue stroking his back. "Leaving your home is brave". I'm not whispering anymore, but I don't care. Tris is in the bunk next to him and maybe I can comfort her at the same time.

"Choosing Dauntless is _very_ brave"

"You've managed to keep up with the Dauntless running from the Choosing Ceremony, you jumped on and _off_ a moving train and even from a building down into a black hole" I smile "So don't worry you are brave"

Al's breathing is evening out a bit and I can feel that the wretched feeling is slowly leaving his body. Maybe if he starts off with a little bit of confidence and a good night's sleep, maybe he will do better in the training.

I sit a little while longer, stroking Al's back and then quietly slipped off his bed and back into mine.

Everything is going to be fine.

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 **Ok, chapters will not always be posted this quickly, but since I've already written this one and is semi-finished with the next two...I thought I might as well post it.**

 **Hopefully I will get a few more followers and reviews**

 **Thanks to Debbydg, AndreaGreenleaves and CallMehGabbeh for your reviews.**

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **Mwa/xx**


	3. Chapter 3 - I'm not smart

**Still looking for a Beta.**

 **English is not my first language.**

 **Alex only read the first book.**

 **Alex is 18, Eric 20.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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I slouch onto the bench and place my head down on the table. I'm dead tired.

The first training session was kind of brutal. I thought I would be fine near guns, but when Four fired that first shot, I could not help but cower down behind the barricade. The bullet wound in my shoulder burned from the loud reminder.

No one seemed to have noticed – except Four – and I felt ridiculous for it. I still do.

Tears welled up in my eyes every time I pulled the trigger and my mind was assaulted by the noise and memory. The tears did not help while aiming and I missed the target every single time. I think I might have shot Edward's target once, but sadly that does not count since his manikin was two boards away from mine. Edward gave me a death glare when it happened, his blue eyes narrowing at me. It only then registered that soon he will only have one eye and be factionless due to Peter. Should I warn him? I can't even remember when it was supposed to happen.

The rest of the group did pretty well at the firing station. They all managed to shoot the target near the centre at least once. Tris struggled a bit, but Will seemed to have encouraged her. Even Al did better than I expected. Maybe my little pep talk did help, after all? We haven't spoken to each other yet. The daylight making it a little bit more awkward than I expected.

Unfortunately, Four did not seem very pleased with us. We were hardly into the day when he pointed a loaded gun to Peter's head and fired a shot near Molly's foot. He snapped at everybody and stomped around the training ground like a bear with a sore foot. I can't really remember this happening in the book, but then again I cannot remember _everything_.

I roll my head from side-to-side and rub the arch at the back of my neck. I'm a little stiff from standing so still while aiming. My head feels groggy with sleep and fuzzy from the painful recollections. My arm aches from the weight of the gun. I can still feel the cold mass of it in my palm. I sigh and lift my eyes, not my head, from the table to look around.

I see Al sits with us and I give him a smile. He returns it and falls into a discussion with Christiana about not remembering her in class.

My head is still on the table when people start bringing out the lunch. Bread rolls, cold meat, cheese and other toppings. My stomach rumbles at the sight of the food. I quickly sit up straight and take a roll, not bothering with butter, and place some meat and cheese on it. I'm famished. I did not eat anything last night and there was no breakfast here this morning. I don't think we get breakfast at Dauntless. The thought makes me sad. I love breakfast.

I chomp down on the bread, sighing as I chew.

"Good, eh?" Will asks grinning. Cheeks full, I just nod and smile. He pops a piece of meat in his mouth and chews loudly.

"So what do you think about our training so far?" he asks with a mouth full. I dramatically shudder while shaking my head and he laughs.

"That bad?"

"Unfortunately" I confirm "I'm useless". I take another bite and rapidly finish my roll. "You seemed to do well".

Will has shaggy, dark brown hair that keeps drooping into his eyes. He needs a haircut. I cannot imagine how he could concentrate while shooting the gun with a curtain of hair continuously flopping in his face. I tied my long hair into a high ponytail this morning, sure to pin back all the loose strands. Maybe I should tell him to get a haircut. He will look good with short hair… like Eric's hairstyle.

The inside of my stomach wobble. I grimace and shake my head. I do _not_ want to think about Eric.

"Fast learner. Erudite" he remarks ant taps his head like that should explain everything. Of course I already knew that he transferred from there, but I could not help but roll my eyes at him. Will is likable. I can understand why Christina falls for him.

My stomach drops and the bread in my mouth turn stale when realisation hits me. What if Tris's parents can't help in saving their Faction and for that matter the dauntless victims? If I leave here before the fear simulation and we are unable to do something about the weird-drone-injection-indecent Will could die. Christine and Tris for that matter too, since I'm not sure if this whole following-the-book sequence is still going to work. I cannot let that happen.

For fuck sakes. When did I became the protector of everyone's lives here? Am I going to sacrifice myself to save others? Am I selfless now? A stiff? I should have fallen into Abegnation then.

I drop the half-eaten roll into my plate and swallow hard on what's left in my mouth. Can I live with myself if I run away and just let everything unfold as its suppose to? Let people die. Let Jeanine, Max, Eric and whoever else is behind the insane scheme ruin the lives of others?

No of course not. I'm not a coward. I'll have to face my fear simulation and think of a way to prematurely end this whole plot. I will be brave and I will try and protect the innocent. A smirk lifts the corners of my mouth. Maybe I'm Dauntless after all.

Ha! Maybe even Divergent!

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After lunch Four takes us to one of the training halls. It is an enormous empty hall, except for a few black punching bags, strung from the roof, and a digital board reflecting all our names in alphabetical order. Well – all the names are listed, except mine. I feel a bit cold. Have they already cut me? That seems a bit radical! I've hardly started training. Sure I did bad with the shooting this morning, but it's the first day! I've yet to prove myself.

I feel an angry flush on my face. I cannot be out of Dauntless. How am I going to save everyone? I need more time!

"Why am I not on the board?" my voice has an angry edge to it. Four stops in mid-sentence. I did not even realise he was talking. He arches an eyebrow at me – clearly not impressed with me speaking out of turn.

He turns to look at the board. I can see the tips of his tattoos peek from underneath his collar. "I have no idea?" he states and turns back to me. He opens his mouth to say something else, but his eyes shift from mine and settle to somewhere behind me. My mind only then registers the determined footsteps echoing through the hall.

I scowl. Eric has come to throw me out.

I slowly turn to face him. Eric's stride is powerful and confident. He's barrelling straight towards me.

My frown deepens as I notice the look in his eyes and I glare back at him. I am not going to be hurled out of this place without a fight. I'm tired of being weak. I'm brave…I'm brave.I'm brave I chant in my head.

Eric comes to halt, stopping inches from me, and I tilt my head upwards to look him in the eyes. His face is stoic, no lines pulled into a frown or jaw-gnashing like he did last night. He looks almost indifferent, bored even, but the stormy grey eyes tell a different story. Eric is still fuming.

His proximity is intimidating – his large frame seems to block the world from my vision and the only thing I'm able to see is him. I subconsciously take a step backwards. Eric's mouth twitches up in the one corner, but the action was so quick I might have imagined it.

"Did you honestly think you could get away with it?" his voice is low, but still it carries through the training hall. Coldness creeps up my spine and goose bumps blooms over my skin. Is he still mad about the kick it the face? Geeze, he can really hold a grudge. My apology last night obviously meant Jack Shit to him.

I sigh, but keep my mouth shut. Nothing I say will make this situation better. Eric raises an eyebrow at my lack of response and then nods his head, confirming something to himself.

"You actually did think you'd get away with it" the disbelief in his voice is genuine "You know, for someone from Erudite, you're not very smart". He folds his arms across his chest, the black leather jacket pulling tight over his shoulders.

What? Erudite? I feel the confusion pull at my face and I frown at his words. Eric must have short term memory loss. Did I not tell him last night that I transferred from Amity?

"What are you tal-"

Eric interrupts "What I don't understand is why you would lie. What purpose does it serve you to claim you are from Amity when you are truly Erudite-born?"

I stare at him. Mind whirring – not yet processing what he is saying. Eric unfolds his arms and I notice that he is holding a device in one of his hands. He taps the screen once and the tablet lights up, casting his face in a blueish colour. Eric keeps talking as his fingers works on the screen.

"Last night when we pulled the initiate's records from the Network, yours did not pop up. First we thought it was an error. Sometimes things like that happen, but when we manually searched for you under the Amity database, we also came up with nothing." Eric's fingers stopped what they were doing and turns the tablet's screen towards me.

There, on the screen is my profile. A picture of me, the same one used for my driver's license back home, is in the top-left corner of the screen. Behind my picture is a faded white symbol of an eye. Next to my photo it says "Alexandria Davenport" in big black letters.

I scan the rest of the profile, not believing what I'm seeing. My father is listed as my only relative and he is an Erudite. A sequence of numbers follows, but I have no idea what it means. A bit further below is my aptitude test result and it reflects as Erudite. In the top right corner is a white box with grey cursive words, reading " _Current Faction Pending_ ".

Eric lowers the screen before I can read the rest. My eyes travel to his. I can feel the shock plastered on my face. Once again I have no idea what the hell is going on. How is it possible that I'm on their Grid?

"Took me all fucking night to find you. Do you have any idea how many Alex's there are?" Eric seethes and the indifferent mask on his face slowly fades into the tired, angry mood he's really in.

I don't know what to say so I just shake my head. My eyes are still wide and my mind still turning and twisting with all the information.

"A lot" Eric snaps. I guess it could be. He did not have my full name or surname to search with and Alex is a unisex name after all.

Since I've got here, the one thing I've learned so far is just to roll with it. Whatever is happening, I just have to go with the flow. Don't overthink, don't cry, don't yell, scream, kick or throw a tantrum. Just bloody roll with it.

But to go with the flow is not so easy when I feel like I'm drowning. What should I say to this? Should I apologise? Admit to a lie that I did not even make? Will that appease Eric? I hardly think so.

"So why? What's the motive for claiming to be from another faction?" Eric shrugs and folds his arms again. He lightly shakes his head and the movement makes his piercing flash. My eyes are drawn to the two small metal balls directly above his right eyebrow and I wonder if it hurt when he got them. I've never had myself pierced, not even my ears, and I have no idea if it is painful or not. My one friend has a tongue piercing…wait what the hell am I thinking? Bloody hell, I've got such an annoyingly, wandering mind.

Eric waits for my answer and I can see that my lack of response is irking him, so I blab the first thing that comes to mind: "I...um…I'm not… smart". I cringe at my lame answer, but I honestly don't know what to tell him.

"Yeah, it's like you said. I'm not very smart" I nod enthusiastically trying to convince Eric about what I'm saying. "I…um…I though claiming from Amity would fit in better with my personality. A dumb Erudite is something of an oxymoron."

Oxymoron? Seriously? I should shut up now.

"Why not choose Amity then?" Eric questions and waves one hand in the air before returning it to his folded position.

Yes, idiot. Why not choose Amity then? Poor choice of words on my part. Ugh, I suck under pressure.

"I'm not very smart…?" I try once more and bite my tongue before I add something stupid again. Damn, I've always prided myself on being an intelligent woman, but my brain seems to have lost its capability to think clearly.

"Indeed" was Eric's only reply, but the animosity in his eyes are gone. He truly thinks me a dumb-witted imbecile. I'm not sure how I feel about this. Elated or affronted? Eric unfold his arms and types something on the tablet again. A sound beeps from behind me and I turn to look. On the board, dead last in red letters, is my name. I guess Eric must have changed my Faction status. I turn to face him again.

"Don't get too comfortable. You'll be factionless soon enough" he drawls, the bored expression once more on his face, but this time it seems genuine. Annoyance bubbles up in me. Eric thinks I'm too dumb to be Dauntless? I open my mouth to snap at his remark, but before I can retort he turns and strides off into the direction he came from. Arrogant bastard. Actually, I should be grateful he thinks me dim-witted. Maybe he will leave me alone now. Yes, I should be relieved.

But he's still an arrogant bastard.

I unclench my fists at my sides and flex my fingers. I want to punch something.

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Finally! Looks like punching the shit out of a lifeless sack strung from the roof is my niche. Kicking it is even better. Who needs a gun, when you can slam the crap out of them, eh?

I feel excitement build up in me every time the bag moves under one of my blows. By the looks of it, I'm faring better at this than the rest. Even mighty Edward seems to kick awkwardly at the sack. His punches are deadly, but he's too tall and not flexible enough to successfully kick the bag.

Four seems to approve of my moves. He nods encouragingly every time he walks by. He's a good instructor and gives me tips on how to improve my blows. However, it's actually Eric who's helping me the best at this.

Yep, my metal picture of his face on the bag is what spurs my angry kicks and punches. When my knuckles collide with the rough fabric, I imagine that apathetic face of his.

When Four dismisses us for dinner, most of the anger towards Eric and my unprecedented situation is gone. I feel tired, but lighter, more confident. Almost giddy. The others seem to be a bit euphoric as well.

As we walk towards the Pit, Al suddenly turns and announces "I want to get a tattoo."

He grins at us like it is the best idea ever. "A tattoo of what?" Will asks from behind me.

"I don't know. I just want to feel that I fit in here now. Leave my old faction behind and blend in". Al laughs and I smile back at him. He looks happy. That's a good sign.

"Maybe you should die your hair pink" I jest. Most of the Dauntless sports wild looking hair, died in vibrant colours or styled in crazy Mohawks.

"Good idea! Maybe you should get a piercing" Christina nudges Tris.

Tris looks appalled by the idea. She shakes her head "No way. I'm not piercing my face." She holds up her hands like she is physically stopping the suggestion.

"What about your bellybutton?" Christina continues suggestively.

"Or your nipple?" Will cheers from behind. Typical male, but I could not help but laugh at the playful banter. I'm still not sure if this world is fictional or not, but I feel closer to these people here with me now than I did back home with the people I went to school with.

The Pit is buzzing with people. The liveliness is alluring and makes me feel like exploring all of the little stalls and shops. Mixtures of different fragrances floats towards us. Spicy, flowery, woody…I turn and notice a small fragrance boutique tucked into one of the walls. Who would have thought?

Christina and Tris looks eager and quickly announces that we will meet Will and Al at the tattoo parlour later. We have to go shopping first.

"No" Tris says firmly. I look behind me and see Christina holding up a short black mini skirt. She's pestering Tris for the past fifteen minutes about what outfits to pick. I feel a bit sorry for Tris. It must be a big switch to make from wearing grey, formless garb to shapely, slightly scandalous clothing. I have no problem with formfitting clothes, but some of these dresses border on porno-outfits. I've selected a couple of skinny jeans and black tops. Most of them hides the wounds on my arms and shoulder. I try not to think about what happened to me. Covering up the evidence makes it easier.

"Come on. It will look great with your skin!" Christina tries one more time, but Tris just shakes her head.

"Fine" Christina grumbles and heads towards a different shelf.

"Hey, do you mind if I skip coming to the tattoo parlour with you and meet you later for dinner?" I ask after I pay with my points at the cashier. I'm not up for any piercings or tattoos yet and do not feel like waiting there for them while they get theirs done. I want to explore more of the stalls.

"You not getting a tattoo?" Tris asks and drapes a long-sleeved top over her arm. She seems reluctant now to get one as well. Tris without her ravens. No, not happening.

"Not yet, I first want to check something out in one of the other stalls. I'll get mine later." I ramble and walk towards the door "Cool, so see you later then? Cheers!".

I wave goodbye and step outside before they could object and ask to tag along. I can deal with breaking the story line to save lives, but I don't want to tamper with positive things.

I weave my way through the stalls occasionally stopping and admiring what they have for sale. I'm very surprised to see what the Dauntless have here. There are stalls selling clothes, jewellery, food, gear and house hold items. A couple of styling salons, tattoo parlours and bars lines the wall. The Dauntless almost seem normal. I thought of them as emo-just-want-to-fight-and-climb-stuff people. Guess I'm wrong. They all probably have their own apartments and needs to fill it with stuff. I hardly think that they all live in dormitories like us initiates.

I reach the far end of the Pit. There are hardly any stalls here and the place almost seem deserted. A lonely, dimly lit passage leads through the wall to an unknown location. I'm about to turn back when I feel the vibration and the strums of music coming from the shadowy path. I haven't heard any form of music since I got here and the thought never occurred to me that the Dauntless might enjoy it. Curious, I edge closer to the sound.

The deeper I go in, the stronger the music become. An orange glow beckons me until I reach a big glass door. At the top is a neon sign flashing: _The Singe_. I glance through the glass, but cannot see anything. A smoky haze seems to cloud whatever is behind the doors. A deep baseline rumbles and the stone floor beneath me trembles.

I get a strong sense that I should not be here. I turn to leave, but the then the most dreadful sound comes from the way a just came.

Eric's voice.

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 **Ok, so I apologise for the late update.**

 **I got distracted by life.**

 **If you like, review.**

 **Mwa/x**


	4. Chapter 4 - The Singe

**Bored at work…so here is a quick short chapter.**

 **Still looking for a Beta volunteer.**

 **As usual: I own nothing**.

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I wrinkle my nose as the thick wave of smoke tickles it. The scent is not really unpleasant; just a bit too pungent. Vanilla and cherry scented smoke swirl in the air before me and it looks surreal in the glow of the dim, yellowish lights. The smoke drops as I walk into the room and hovers a few inches from the ground. It looks like I'm walking through white water; the haze moves in churning motions around my ankles.

The place appears mostly empty. It's probably still too early for the Dauntless to go out. A couple of soft looking couches stand out like dark islands in the grey smoky lake. A few of them are occupied. At the one side there's a large bar stretching along the stone wall. Many different colored glass bottles shimmer in the pale counter lights. It looks extremely inviting.

I make my way deeper into the ethereal room and duck behind a pillar just as the door I entered through flings open. My heart is drumming along to the low baseline bouncing off the walls. The music, along with the eerie smoke makes the hair on my neck and arms rise. I stand and wait a while before I move again. I slowly bend my head around the stone pillar, my palms and stomach braced against its surface, and take a peek from out behind it. A group of guys stands between the entry and the one end of the bar. They, of course, are all sporting black, but none of them have wild, colorful hair styles or any piercings. The group looks painfully neat and somewhat out of place. A thought flash through my mind.

Erudite.

But I quickly shake it off. They would be wearing blue.

I however cannot see Eric with them.

I glance towards the bar and the rest of the room, but cannot locate him. Maybe I should make a run for it? I should quickly sneak out of this place, before I'm noticed. I take a couple of deep breaths. Bracing myself, I move away from the pillar. The steps I take are rapid, but as I reach about halfway to my destination the door hurls open again and Eric steps out from the smoky fog into the room.

Oh, come on! Seriously?

I spin around quickly and jog back to my pillar. Unfortunately, a couple claims my hideout-post and start a make-out session against it. I glare at the twosome as I pass them and move to find a new spot.

I flop down onto a couch that's nestled into a dark corner of the room. Its back is turned towards the entryway. I peek over my shoulder and see Eric standing at the bar. A girl is sliding up to him and the two of them starts talking. I glance back toward the door and see the group of guys splitting up. Some walks towards Eric and the others towards a door I haven't notice before.

"Hi"

I jump at the close proximity of the greeting and whirl around. In the corner, nearly completely cast in shadow, sits a man. His legs are stretched out on the small table in front of him and his hands are clasped behind his head. A lazy smile lifts the corners of his mouth. He looks the very epitome of relaxed.

"Oh, sorry. I did not see you there." I say.

"No worries" he moves forward until his face reaches the light. The stranger has jet black hair with a thin neon green streak to the one side. His eyes are a peculiar shade of greenish-blue and framed off with thick lashes. A tip of a tattoo peaks from underneath his black shirt and makes a sharp point to the side of his throat. "You must not come here often." He nods to the room "Or you would have known that this seat is always occupied."

I scoff " _Always_ occupied?" You live here then?"

He chuckles and the sound is pleasant. His voice is low and throaty and inviting. Actually the more I look at him, I realize that everything about him is is inviting. His smile, the dimple in his left cheek, his strong jaw and the amused flicker in his eyes. His arms are well built and looks like it needs to be freed from his shirt.

"I did not say it is always _me_ who sits here"

Oh of course. Stupid me. "You like a guard then?" honestly I don't know why I'm even talking to this guy. I should be leaving this place and make my way to the dinner hall. Christa and Tris is probably waiting for me. I however cannot seem to break my gaze from the green eyes that's busy studying me.

"Something like that" his answer is very vague. "What's your name?" he asks and removes his feet from the table and rest his elbows on his knees. He clasps his hands in front of him, leaning a bit closer to me. His feet disturbed the surface of the smoky floor and the scent of cherries drifts up again. However, this time it did not smell so overwhelming.

"Alex" my voice sounds throaty. I try to clear it. The stranger's gaze travels down my body. He cocks his head to the one side and lazy grin spreads over his face.

"So, what made you come to the Singe?" he asks. The music is buzzing low. I really should leave.

"Hiding" I answer truthfully. My hand loosens its grip on the parcel I'm holding. I look down and notice the bag with the new clothes I bought earlier. I've forgotten about it. My head feels a bit thick.

"Ah, this is a good place to hide" he says and slowly nods. My eyes drop to his lips. They are nice and full. Why am I looking at his lips? The stranger notice and his smile broadens. I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I try and clear my throat again.

"Yeah, many dark little nooks…" I trail off. I'm not quite sure what I want to say. I slouch back into the couch. It is a very comfortable couch.

"Exactly" he mimics my movement and also leans back into his sofa again. "This one time, on one of my free nights, one of the guards at the fence got injured. How? I don't really know. I mean, the fence is like the most boring patrol site ever, right?" he says like I should know this. He must not know I'm still an initiate. "Anyway, I really was not feeling up to it. So I came here. This is not the only dark corner, if you know what I mean…"

I shake my head "Umm, no?"

He points behind me. I turn and scan the area until my eyes land on what he is referring to. A wall with many fitting room stalls are stretched out against the one side. The curtains draped on it blocks many little rooms from view. Why would this place have fitting rooms? But I soon shed the idea of a changing room, when I couple emerges from it…the woman still adjusting her skirt. I feel my face grow hotter.

"Oh..."

"Well, let's just say that no one found me for _hours_ " he stretches out the last word and grin "By the time they did, a replacement was already found." He shrugs and I giggle. Why am I giggling? Ugh.

"Shirking your responsibility? Shame on you" I say. Why is my voice so husky? I sound like a flirt. Am I flirting with him? The music feels like its thrumming through me. Low and intoxicating. The man in front of me is very good looking. I like his eyes on me. I lick my lips. Something in the back of my mind goes off. A warning?

"So I take it you are not hiding from one of your duties then?"

I shake my head, the action feels slow "No, I'm hiding from someone."

A haze of cherry and vanilla seems to envelope my senses. The stress from my body seeps away.

"Do I know this person?" his smile never leaves his handsome face.

"Probably" I don't say anything else. I'm too distracted by the stranger's attractive features and the blissfully oblivion about life's problems taking hold of my mind.

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"I cannot believe you are actually trying to do that!" I laugh and swat at Blake's hand while trying to wiggle loose. He is sitting on the table in front of me, cradling my left foot in his one hand and holding my leg in place with the other.

"I need to see if you are telling the truth" he states and hooks one finger underneath the shoelace to try and slacken it. I panicked laugh escapes my lips again. I'm pretty sure my feet stink, being cooped up in the training boots all day. Why am I even wearing training boots? They are so ugly.

"I swear; I will kick you in the face if you don't let go!" my voice does not sound intimidating at all and Blake just chuckles.

"Why?" He looks back at me and wipe the neon green streak from his eyes.

"Why? Because you don't just grab a stranger's foot and try to yank her shoe off!" I pull my leg back for momentum and then give him a gentle kick in the chest. My actions are slow and sloppy, but his hold slips and I retract my legs and fold them in front of me on the couch.

"We are no longer strangers" Blake glances down at a watch on his wrist and then back up at me "We know each other for approximately four hours." Something tickles at the back of my minds, but I cannot place it. I shake my head a little and shrug the feeling away.

"That still does not give you permission to look at my birth mark!" I retort. The edges around Blake seems to tilt and sharpen.

"I need to see if you are telling the truth" he says again, but luckily he does not reach for my foot again. Instead he leans backward to grab his drink. "You sure you don't want one?" he adds. Maybe I should have a drink, my throat is kind of dry.

I nod and reach out my hand. I feel like I'm floating. "Were you by any chance Candor before you became Dauntless?" I ask. He hands me his drink. The glass feels nice and cool in my hand.

"Guilty." He gives me a sheepish grin. "Old habits die hard I suppose."

A silence stretch between us and I glance down at his lips again. I think I've done that for the hundredth time already, but when I look back to Blake's eyes I notice him staring at my mouth. He moves slowly forward and I feel the air growing hot around us. Blake is going to kiss me. Do I want him to kiss me? Hell, yes! I lean forward as well.

The sweet cherry smoke drifts up again. I close my eyes.

I wait. Nothing happens.

I frown and reopen my eyes to see why Blake is taking so long.

He's no longer leaning towards me, but rather looking at something behind me.

"Hey, Four." Blake's voice is thick.

Four? Why is Four here?

"Blake. I see you found my missing initiate" Four says from behind me. He sounds a bit exasperated. I turn to face him, but topple sideways and land with my back on the couch, staring up at Fours' unamused face. The glass in my hand clatters to the ground, spilling the contents all over my pants.

Woah, vertigo. I try to focus on Four's face. He looks strange from this angle.

For raises an eyebrow at my position and I snicker. Does he always have to looks so serious?

"Did she drink that?" he moves from around the couch to stand between me and the Blake.

"No, it was my drink. Wait, did you say initiate?" the sultry sound from Blake's voice vanished. I try to look past Four to Blake, but was only met by my trainer's black shirt. "Shit, sorry, Bro. I did not know she was an initiate."

I feel Four's hands circle my upper arms. He pulls me into a standing position and sling one of my arms around his neck while he wraps one of his arms around my waist. "Can you walk?" he asks. I turn my face sideways and smile at him. His brown eyes are beautiful up close.

"Of course I can walk!" I say optimistically and take a step forward. My legs wobble and I grab with my free hand at the couch's armrest. "Oops, maybe not."

Four holds me in place and I like the weightlessness of my body. I sway to the rhythm of the beat, but my movements are limited. My hip keeps bumping against Four's.

"Seriously Blake, you did not think to escort her out?" Four complains. I stop my swaying and turn to look at the guy I wanted to kiss mere seconds ago.

"Who am I to hinder someone's fun?" Blake laughs and I smile at him. I like him. He's nice. And handsome. "Like I said, I did not know she's an initiate."

"Who else would get drunk off the vapors?" Four bends and opts for picking me up bridal style. My legs are draped across his one arm and my back pressed against his other upper. My head rests on his shoulder.

"Light weights" Blake answers Four's hypothetical question and I laugh. Blake smiles back up at me and I feel like melting. He truly is beautiful. Four is also beautiful.

"Right" Four drawls "I'm taking this one to the showers. If you see Eric, tell him that I need to speak to him." With that, Four turns around and marches through the smoky lake with me in his arms. I crane my head over his shoulder and shout "Bye Blake!"

"Cheers Alex. Enjoy your shower."

As Four navigates us through the room, I notice that the place is a lot more stacked than earlier. All the couches are occupied and many of its occupants are busy making out. It looks fun. We pass a couple of girls holding glasses with vibrant looking liquids. I swallow and lick my dry lips.

"I want one." I say and look up at Four.

"What?' he asks and shuffles past the group.

"That." I point to one of the girls holding a sparkling blue drink.

"No."

"But I'm, thirsty" I whine. I feel Four sigh, but he doesn't say anything. We move past another couple of people, no one giving us the slightest bit of attention. Four must be strong to carry me like this and I absentmindedly stroke the hard muscle of his upper arm. His chest is nice and warm and I can feel the vibrations of the music through him.

"I want to dance." I say excitedly and start to wiggle out of his arms.

"Definitely not." Four growls and intensifies his hold on me.

"Why not?" I challenge him. Seriously, will he not let me have any fun? He drags me away from Blake, refuses to let me drink anything and now I'm not allowed to dance!

Four press his lips tightly together, not saying anything.

"Ugh, you are such a Stiff" I mutter "You should go back to Abnegation." He might be beautiful, but he is no fun. Blake is fun. I want to go back to Blake.

Four goes rigid beneath me. I laugh. How ironic…a Stiff going stiff.

"What did you say?" his voice is very low. We reach the door and he kicks it open. The passage outside is cold and I shiver. I want to go back inside. I press myself against Four's chest for heat. He is nice and warm. I inhale deeply. He smells good too. Four walks us down a couple of paces before he stops in front of another door. He presses his hand against a key pad and I watch as it swings open. Once inside he drops me to the floor.

"Ouch!" I yelp as I land hard on my butt. The stone floors is cold and hard.

Four stalks away from me. His butt looks cute from down here. I'm about to tell him that, but suddenly a spray of cold water hits my face.

I struggle and splutter and gasp. The water is freezing. Four does not stop.

"Aaah, no! What are you doing?" I choke as some of the water gets spurted down my throat.

Still Four continues.

Slowly the fog releases its hold on my brain. The fuzzy feeling in my stomach disappears. The cherry-scented, hazy dream washes away with the cold water.

My minds feel sharper.

I wake up.

Four releases the trigger of the washing hose. He looks intently at my face. His eyes narrow and he lifts the water-hose again.

I roll to the side, dodging the spray by a few inches as it hits the spot I've just been sitting in. Four stops spraying again. A small smile lifts at the corner of his mouth.

"Welcome back, Alex"

I blink up at him and then to the room I'm in. I'm in kitchen. Crouching on the floor. I'm wet. The water dripping from my hair and sticking to my lashes. My clothes cling to my skin. It's fucking freezing. I try to focus. The last thing I remember was being startled on the couch by the man with the neon hair.

I look back at Four.

"What the fuck just happened?"

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Wow, thanks to the 35 people following this story (Now, if only you would review as well, sigh).

Thanks to: **Debbydgq, AndreaGreenleaves, CallMehGabbeh, TheNeonZombie, KarukMomma, , Juyon1 and mrsbishop21** for your reviews. Much appreciated. I'll choose you if I have to pick teammates for the War-Game.

Mwa/x


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